Technique
by gryffindormischief
Summary: All the Weasley kids (and one Lupin) love when Harry babysits, but sometimes he has to deal with the unpleasant aftermath.


A/N: I had kind of started this a while ago but I couldn't figure out where to go with it, and then it got revitalized when I connected it with a prompt from tumblr. Happy Sunday :)

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Harry was no push over when he babysat, the important rules were enforced and he always made sure the child in question was safe, cared for, and loved. However, his title as the 'fun' one _had_ come from somewhere. It started with always having a craft or fun activity planned for Teddy because he wanted to be a _good_ godfather and he loved the kid. Then Victoire came along, and he loved her too, and so did Teddy, plus she had a way of wrapping the two around her little chubby fingers like no other, _except Ginny…she must give her lessons when I'm not around_.

It started simply enough, Victoire wanted games and crafts like Teddy, then both agreed Harry made an excellent royal horse, then they decided that a royal couple needed a castle, which lead to every cushion, blanket, and towel in Harry's flat becoming the walls and ceilings of an abode fit for the tiny king and queen. Harry knew how to get them off to bed, 'the sooner you go to sleep the sooner we can play again,' and how to get them to eat their veggies, or as he liked to call them 'dragon power bites.' But somehow, it wasn't enough. Bruised knees, hours of Charlie taking the mickey, and Ginny laughing when she finds him passed out, dead to the world on a pile of couch cushions because he couldn't find his bed pillows or sheets, couldn't save him.

The young hero was currently perched on the toilet of his small loo, chipping at the bright pink paint that messily covered his nails, and most of his fingertips. Victoire and Teddy had tag-teamed this one, the former announcing that she was excellent at painting nails ''cause mummy showded' her, and Teddy clapping excitedly, exclaiming that he could pick the color with his hair. Harry had explained that he didn't own any _nail_ paints, hoping that this would put their plot to an end. Sadly, the intrepid duo had overcome this obstacle quickly when Teddy remembered his paint set, _and_ the accompanying glitter the boys had used to make Gran a picture months ago. Unwilling to dash their hopes, Harry had agreed with a sigh, which resulted in his current pink and sparkly predicament.

Just as he was chipping off a big, gooey clump, Harry heard the _whoosh_ that signaled someone flooing into the flat, "Harry?"

He smiled contentedly, _Ginny_ , before he recalled why he was currently hunched over the sink. _Just play it cool,_ "Hey Gin!"

After quickly rinsing the shards down the sink, Harry stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets; _at least the movie theater will be dark._

Hoping to put the steely lying ability he'd fostered over his years at Hogwarts and honed under the watchful eye of Auror Robards during undercover training to use, Harry strode down the hall, before determining, based on the sounds coming through the doorway, that Ginny was in the kitchen. Slowing his gate and taking a deep breath, _she's not using legilimency and it's not like she can see through your trousers…_

As he rounded the corner, he took in the sight of his wife, back turned to him, as she gulped down a glass of water, long orangey red hair cascading down her back, slight curls catching on her shoulders before she shook them free. Wiping her mouth with the back of one freckled forearm, she rinsed the clear shiny glass and placed it to dry on the dish rack. Harry leaned against the doorframe, admiring the muscles that flexed and released as she moved about the kitchen, still unaware of his presence.

Without turning from her foraging, Ginny crouched to pull out a packet of crisps, "I know you're watching me Potter. It's creepy."

Harry fought down a blush, _she's your wife…you should bloody well hope she knows you fancy her_ , and cleared his throat, "No it's not."

Ginny stepped forward, putting her socked feet on top of his and wrapping her arms around his waist, "Creepy in a cute way."

Just as she stretched up to place a kiss to his lips, both in greeting and consolation for her teasing, Harry turned his head away in mock offense, "No. I don't want to kiss you in case it's _creepy_."

With a snort, she slipped her arms around his neck and tugged his face downward, "Kiss me you shirty bugger."

A small smile cracked his face as he gave in, kissing her enthusiastically as possible without the use of his still hidden hands. Luckily, Ginny was too out of breath from the work of his mouth to notice the lack of touching elsewhere.

Harry felt around in his pocket for his wallet that contained muggle money for their evening out when Ginny waved a take out menu in front of his face, "How d'you feel about picking up some take out and then stopping at that movie store with the…"

"VHS tapes?" Harry supplied, trying not to laugh.

Ginny narrowed her eyes, "Yes. Those. We could just have a night in and then do… _other stuff_."

Just as he was about to agree, one of his fingers brushed over the nail of another, and he remembered his babysitting induced predicament, "But- didn't you want to see something in the theater?"

Ginny shook her head, "Nah, we can do that another time. Between practice this morning and then shopping with Mum and Hermione this afternoon I'm over being around the rest of the population."

Harry felt the sweat build on his temples as he started to panic, _it's too bright, and I can't wear mittens in the middle of spring and she's never going to-_

"Are you ok love?" Ginny asked, brow furrowed in concern.

Casting around for something that might explain his strange behavior, he caught sight of his regulation Auror robes draped over one of the spindly kitchen chairs, "Yeah. One of the vampire informants visited yesterday. Seems there's some unrest between the clans but nothing-"

Ginny eyed him as he babbled, not really listening, before her searching brown eyes honed in on his lower half, "Where are your hands?"

Harry stopped mid thought, mouth hanging open, "Is this a trick question?"

Stepping closer, Ginny's fisted hands went to her hips, "Are you _avoiding_ the question?"

Emerald eyes darting to the floor, before he made direct eye contact once again, speaking philosophically, "In the grand scheme of things how important _are_ my hands?

Licking her lower lip and sauntering closer, Ginny murmured, "I think your hands are _very_ important. Show me."

Harry's eyebrows shot up, "Why don't you come over here and make me?" Quickly, before she reacted, he started backing away towards the master bedroom, shoulder smacking into the off white molding.

Ginny shot forward, loosely grasping his shirt before he pulled away, "Oh no you don't _Mister_."

She gave chase, which was a fairly short event considering he stuck to his route that involved a short trek down the hardwood floored hall. Slamming the door behind him, he glanced at the picture frames that rattled from the impact, breathing heavily.

He could hear Ginny on the other side of the door as she let out a sigh, "I'm sorry."

"Really?" Harry answered, still on edge.

Ginny's fingernail made a light scratching sound as she picked at a bump in the paint, "Yes. Can I come in?"

Harry bit his lip in thought, "Ok."

After settling on the bed, he unlocked the door with a flick of his wand and tucked his hands under his thighs, waiting for Ginny to enter.

She peered through the small crack in the door, opening it further with a _creak_ before walking in slowly and perching on the bed next to him, her leg pressed against his, "I'm really sorry I freaked you out."

Harry briefly questioned _why_ Ginny was apologizing so sincerely for something he didn't quite grasp, but her mouth was suddenly on his, moving fervently over his lips. He caught on quickly, returning her attentions with zeal, forgetting his earlier troubles as he lost himself in her smell and the smooth feel of her long locks, her fingers entwining with his…

Ginny pulled away with a smack, a death grip on his hands, "I _knew_ it!"

"You knew Teddy and Victoire had given me a makeover?"

Rolling her eyes she stuck her tongue out, " _No_. I knew you were hiding something from me."

"Rather successfully for a bit there," Harry answered, trying unsuccessfully to curl his fingers in on themselves.

"I recall no success. You should know by know you can't keep anything from me," Ginny scoffed, inspecting his manicure thoughtfully, "I would've gone with salmon instead of bubblegum."

"You used cruel and unusual methods to get the information out of me," Harry half whined, ignoring her ribbing.

Ginny stroked his hands slowly with her calloused fingers, "I wouldn't call it _cruel._ And we could do unusual if you like."

"I've had enough unusual for today, and I'd really like to get this off before anything else happens," Harry replied.

Snickering, Ginny pulled Harry to his feet, "Ok then, go take care of these and I'll order take away. We can watch a movie that's already here."

A she entered the kitchen, still chuckling to herself, Ginny picked up the take away menu, scanning the entrée items, when Harry's echoing voice sounded from the loo, releasing a chain of expletives that would've turned Molly Weasley's stomach, "How do I get this stuff _off_?"

Fighting back a smile, Ginny called back, "Coming dear."


End file.
